


Cherry Bombs

by lil_pianissimo



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bisexual Character, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Explicit Language, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Homophobic Language, Homosexuality, Hunk (Voltron) is so Pure, I'm Bad At Summaries, Internalized Homophobia, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Pansexual Character, Polysexual, Pride, Pride Parade, Rainbows, Shiro (Voltron) is a Good Sibling, They are great friends to each other, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Usually im good but my mind blanked
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-07-02 19:17:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15802896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_pianissimo/pseuds/lil_pianissimo
Summary: Keith and Lance meet at a Pride parade. Keith is a closeted homosexual who would rather not be there. Lance is an out and proud bisexual who has never been happier. It's only right that Lance would take the opportunity to show Keith that it is ok to be himself, but that is going to take a lot of effort from both parties involved.*I know it's been awhile, but I WILL finish this story! Don't fret! :D*





	1. Cherry Pit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lil_fubsy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_fubsy/gifts).



> DISCLAIMER: I myself have never been to a Pride parade, and I couldn't find much info (believe it or not) online either, so I essentially just made this parade the largest rainbow party in the history of parades. It might resemble more of a college party mixed with a child's art kit. Please don't hate me; I really love this story. But if any of you have been to pride and have ideas, I would love to hear them!

“Shiro, I hate this.” Keith, an eighteen-year-old defensive emo and closeted homo, was way out of his element of staying home, bingeing Hot Cheetos and indulging in mediocre, hour long conspiracy shows on the History channel, that he enjoyed, for some reason. He found pleasure in awful and cringey things. This was how he tended to spend his summers because he felt he stressed about his life too much during the regular year. With school, work, and everything in between, he just liked to have some time alone. He always preferred to be left to himself, not stuck in the sticky, mid-June heat continuously sandwiched between thousands of rainbow-clad, half-naked, sign wielding strangers on the streets of Austin, Texas.

“Don’t worry, it get’s cooler as the day goes on.” Shiro, the only family and friend he’s ever known, reassured the awkward boy positively as he held his lover’s hand fondly. Him and Adam, his significant other, had been together since high school and even went to their first Pride together as friends. Which is exactly why Keith hated it. Stuff like this was for people who were unapologetically themselves, who didn’t give a flying two dicks about who saw what and whether or not there were consequences after, people who find it funny to sit around and throw around possible ship names for each other, people like Adam and Shiro. Personalities play a pungent role in these parades as well, but even if he wasn’t an outgoing, flamboyant ball of neon Crayola, no matter how you looked at it, he didn’t fit in.

Keith considered himself a dark, evasive slush of discombobulated anger and depression. He didn’t have any close friends because he wasn’t good at talking to people and everything he said was twisted to make him sound like an asshole, which he was, but he desperately tried to prevent that. He also wasn’t completely comfortable with his sexuality that may or may not be. He noticed small signs, like how he never seemed to crush on the prettiest girl in class, or how he felt disgusted when the opposite gender would feel any sort of attraction to him. At first, he thought he was just a late bloomer, that sooner or later, he will gain interest, but he never did. The first time he felt legitimate attraction was toward a movie he was watching at Shiro’s house, and the memory terrified him. He was there to do homework, because, back then, Shiro had taken up the responsibility to tutor Keith with anything he needed, and they decided to take a break. Shiro had gone to get them some snacks, while Keith was left with the power to choose the movie, which in itself was a horrible mistake. He had ultimately decided on the god-awful trash that was Tim Burton’s Batman and Robin (he loved the bad stuff, the ones that age you prematurely from cringing so much) and he knew it was bad but had never seen it. That was his worst decision to date. As appalling as it was, nobody could argue that those outfits left nothing to be desired. The skin-tight latex sticking to every crevasse, suffocating the men’s toned bodies had Keith feeling hot and bothered at the not so tender age of twelve, and he has never felt the same since.

He just wasn’t comfortable in his own skin which made him feel like a fraud, and a blemish on these strangers out and proud happiness that he did not have.

“I’m not talking about the heat, I mean this stupid parade!”

Shiro looked mildly hurt and maybe a little offended, ouch. “Keith, I know this may be a little too out there for you,” he flinched at the double entendre, “but this could be really good for you.” Keith returned a puzzled and annoyed look; Shiro turned to Adam, “Can I have a second alone with him?” Adam smiled an affectionate, “Of course, Takeshi” and gave a quick, tender kiss on the lips before he left for another section of the parade, they could still see him, but he was far enough that the two brothers could have a moment to themselves.

“Keith, I’ve noticed that you are not yourself, that something wasn’t normal with the way you were acting.” Keith looked mortified, Shiro couldn’t have figured out, but then again, how wouldn’t he have suspected something at this point. He put his hands on his shoulders, “I didn’t just bring you here because I was going; you are old enough to be on your own. I just noticed these changes and thought that if you saw other people like you, then you would understand that what you are feeling is not weird.”

He hated this. Shiro saw right through him, what was it exactly that he was feeling? What did he mean people like him? He didn’t even know himself, how could he know?

He aggressively shrugged off his gentle hands, shocking the other, “So, what you mean to tell me is that I’m being forced to accept a sexuality that I am not?” He should have stopped then, but he didn’t, one of his many flaws, “That I should pretend to be some homo with rainbows and smiles and PDA that nobody asked for? I’m not you, Shiro, and I am not _that_ part of you!”

That’s when it hurt. Shiro was awe stricken, mouth agape, eyes wide with offence. He looked like he had been wounded and Keith felt as if he had kicked a puppy.

“Shiro,” he began trying to convey his feelings even though everything felt like venom on his tongue, “I’m sorry, I just…”

Shiro put his hand up to cut him off mid-poor ass-apology, “Stop, it’s ok. I know you didn’t mean it like that, it just doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

“I just don’t want to be here Shiro.” He looked up desperately, “I don’t belong in a place like this.”

There was little sympathy on the other’s face, “Keith, whether or not you are ready to tell me, or accept anything, you can’t deny that you have been stuck in a rut as of late.” He sighed and suddenly showed concern, “Forget that I ever said anything about what you could be, or what I implied, this place, where you’re standing, isn’t just a parade to people. You’ll find more love and acceptance than any place else on Earth, here on a street filled with strangers, flying rainbows and projectile condoms.” Keith couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

“Projectile condoms, huh?” Shiro smirked.

“You’d be surprised at what you spot soaring around here.”

“Ok, so what’s your point?” Keith gave a small smile and Shiro returned the favor with a little desperation.

“I just want you to try to have fun, if nothing else. I don’t want you to think that I’m forcing anything on you with you being here, I just want to see you happy for once.”

Keith felt cold. He didn’t think that he was so distant that it was becoming worrisome. He had had some incidents in the past, but that was when he was at his lowest and they had gotten through it together. Was he showing those signs again?

He pondered for a long couple of seconds before peering up at his brother, his friend, from beneath his overgrown bangs. “Alright, I’ll do my best, but no promises.” He added on the last bit to steer away from how uncomfortable he really felt, and it worked.

“Thank you, Keith, I really appreciate that.” Adam made his way back over, putting his arm around Shiro’s hip, making Keith feel dark and bitter.

“Hey, do you two want to go find something to eat around the strip? It’s around lunch time.” Keith was starving in actuality, but as he ping-pong between the two men he felt he shouldn’t ruin their time together. He was happy for the two of them, especially since he made Shiro look so bright, he didn’t want to sour their love with his poor mood. Plus, he didn’t want them to think they couldn’t be lovey-dovey, and he wanted them to be able to do that with each other.

“I had a pretty large breakfast, so I’m fine, but if you two want to go on I can make do.”

“Are you sure? We really don’t mind if you come with us.” Shiro was giving Keith a worried puppy-dog eyed face, he plastered on a fake smile that he hoped was convincing enough.

“I’m positive. I’ll be waiting right here when you get back, I promise.”

Shiro returned a small, weary smile, “Well, ok, if you’re sure.” He nodded, “Then we’ll be back in a few!”

As they disappeared into a sea of color, Keith’s smile dropped, and he instinctively crossed his arms over his chest defensively. He glanced around at everybody having a blast with each other and felt sick to his stomach. It may have been the neglected hunger talking, but he thought there was more to it than that. Keith spotted an area on the sidewalk that had much less people than the rest of the roads, so he made his way over to it and plopped down with a sad thud.


	2. Cheery Cherry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part was originally going to be a part of the first chapter, but it would've been way too long, so I made it it's own. I suppose the first chapter was just a little taste of what's to come.

He hated this. It was hot, and humid, and miserable, he was miserable, and now his anti-social self was left alone to his own destructive devices. He tried to ignore all of the blinding colors and obnoxious music that people were blasting every which way. It was all just so bright, and so loud, he pulled his knees to his chest and rested his head in his arms, he just wanted to be home.

His mind was wondering to terrible places when he suddenly heard a voice, “Hey, man, you doing alright? Are you having a heat stroke?”

Keith lifted his head to face the intruder of his solitude. A boy, his age, probably, decked out in various pinks, blues and purples stood in front of him. Keith found himself cringing at the over the top outfit; it wasn’t even good. A tie-dye, frayed cropped tank top of the various colors listed, acid wash capri-shorts and a pair of converse sneakers that looked old, and worn and like he painted them himself decades ago. His legs were coated in handprints, of the same three colors, and there was one pink handprint on his right cheek. He wore cheap, dangly jewelry and he had a blue bandana tied around his forehead. To top it all off, as if the absurdity of the rest wasn’t enough Bi-Pride, someone must’ve thrown glitter all over his body. He couldn’t tell if that was his choice, or if it was from the parade, but regardless he looked ridiculous.

He took a bite of the corndog he was eating (the innuendos were atrocious) and popped his hip, “Well, are you?”

He blinked, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh, you’re worse than I thought.” He stuck the dog in his mouth and pulled off a little backpack covered in blue glitter, unzipped it and dug around the small bag before pulling out a water bottle and handing it to Keith.

“Here, take it.”

He glared at the bottle confused, “Why?” He unintentionally spat; the hunger must be getting to him.

He cocked a brow, annoyed, “Because I want you to water the tree behind you. Of course, I want you to drink it, mullet!”

Keith was aggravated with the nickname, but he accepted the bottle regardless. “Thanks, I guess.”

The boy grinned an insufferable, wide, toothy grin that made Keith look away because it was too bright and big for his small face.

The horridly dressed Bi-boy took on a teasing tone, “Looks like someone wasn’t prepared for the Pride!” He sang as he sat down right next to him, which irritated him as he drank the cold, soothing liquid in the bottle. “Rule number one: Always bring water to a Pride parade!”

“I have water, just not on me, idiot!” His voice was raspy and tired; he hadn’t even done anything. He turned away again as the boy inspected him further.

“You know, I get style and all that,” How could he say that when he was wearing unicorn bile on his stick figure body? “But a sweatshirt, in this heat, really is not the best idea. Heatstroke’s are almost a definite without water on you.”

“I hope it kills me.” He retorted, but he suddenly felt even more self-conscious. Looking down he realized he stuck out like a sore thumb amongst all of this color. Keith was a consistent swatch of black from head to toe. He looked about as emo as he felt currently: black sweatshirt, black leggings, and simple pair of worn Adidas. The only thing remotely Pride related was a rainbow wrist band that wasn’t even his, Shiro just insisted that he wore some color. When he looked from himself to the other boy, they couldn’t appear more different.

“Come on,” he was looking at Keith with a serious stare, he didn’t know he could be that stern up until this point, “even if it’s a joke, you shouldn’t say those things so carelessly.”

Keith felt mildly guilty as he swished the water around in the bottle, “Sorry, I guess I’ve been having a bad day.” Why he bothered to tell someone that knew nothing about him was beyond him.

“That’s ok, everyone has off days! I don’t suppose you want to talk about it?”

That stunned him, “No not really.”

“Alright! Well, regardless, I know just the thing to make you feel better!” This kid didn’t question anything from Keith, Shiro would’ve convinced him that talking about his problems would benefit on the brighter side of things. This guy, however, did the exact opposite. Maybe it was because they were complete and utter strangers.

“And what’s that, exactly?”

He turned dramatically on his heels and faked mock surprise (which was overdramatic, in his unwanted opinion), “Why, we are surrounded by rainbows, boobs and ass; there is nothing around here that doesn’t scream happiness!”

He rolled his eyes as he felt sick again, “Ugh, don’t remind me.”

“Come on, man, this is Pride! You’re not supposed to be sitting off by yourself, secluded from the rest of the party!” He put his hands on his hips to prove a point, it didn’t really work.

“I’m pretty sure I give off a “don’t talk to me; leave me alone” kind of vibe, to most people, anyway.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” he referenced his entire getup, “I’m not most people, mullet.”

“Ok, you keep calling me that; this is not a mullet, my hair is just long and disgusting.”

“If your bangs are fluffy and it curves up at the ends, it’s a mullet; sorry, to break it to yah.”

“You didn’t correct disgusting.” He nudged mockingly.

“Because it’s still gross!” He laughed at Keith, “I hate it, it looks terrible! My fashionista heart is in pieces!”

Keith scoffed, “Are you serious? I wouldn’t even believe that you knew how to buy a decent pair of shoes with what you’re wearing, and you call yourself a style expert?”

He looked offended and pointed fingers, “Excuse you, these are my Pride sneakers!” Emphasis on Pride, “And I don’t want to hear anything from a guy in a mullet!”

He giggled, “Sure, whatever you say.” He was just beginning to forget his problems, when the hunger kicked back in, now he was back to being miserable.

“Dude, you really don’t look good; do you need a paramedic?”

Calling the ambulance? No, that would only worry Shiro, “No, there’s no need to call someone; I’m fine.”

“Call? No, there’s a doctor around every corner, you know that!” He didn’t, but he wasn’t going to let him know that, “But you look seriously ill, what’s up?” At that moment, Keith’s stomach decided to be a little snitch and sell him out. The boy laughed, which only made Keith feel more humiliated, “Hungry, aren’t you? Well, shit, dude, you had me worried it was something serious!” He really got a hoot out of this, “Just go eat something, man! There’s booths and restaurants everywhere!”

He snapped, “I know that! I’m not an idiot, I’m just waiting for someone!”

“Like a friend of yours?”

“You could say that…”

He looked confused, he elaborated, “He’s like a brother to me, but we are not related.” There was an affirmative “ah” before he decided to clear up another confusion, “He’s here with his boyfriend. They went out to eat and I didn’t want to bother them, so I told them I’d wait here.”

“I see. Well, you know, the parade doesn’t just stop moving, and who knows where they decided to go.”

He had a point, but Keith wasn’t going to take any chances.

“Hey, why don’t you just come hang out with me!”

What. “No, that’s a terrible idea.”

“Rude! I’m amazing company!”

“I don’t doubt that, for some people, but I was talking about me.”

“That’s true, but I promise I was just joking when I said your mullet bothered me a lot, it’s only a little bit.”

“We don’t know each other.”

“That’s what Pride’s all about, buddy! Meeting new people and making friends that don’t last longer than the parade! I mean, sometimes you make life long friends, but I haven’t had any luck.”

“Gee, I wonder why that is.”

“Anyway,” he yelled, “the point is you don’t fully experience Pride unless you meet some pretty amazing people along the way and, lucky for you, I’m the best you’re going to get!”

“Yeah, I’d rather starve.” He made a series of offended gasps while Keith genuinely considered the offer. He wouldn’t be bothering Shiro and Adam, they could do whatever it was they wanted. Maybe take advantage of the projectile condoms. On the other hand, he had said he would be here; would he be mad if he just up and left? He could always just text him, say he ran into some people he knew as opposed to a stranger, and Shiro was always telling him to put himself out there.

He got up from his spot on the sidewalk and pulled his phone out of his fanny pack (yes, he was wearing one of those things at Shiro’s disposal, in black, thank you), “Hey, Shiro, I’m going to go,” he tried to choose his words wisely, “enjoy the parade a bit. There’s not much I can do sitting around here; is that alright with you? We can have a meeting place.” The boy just watched as the whole conversation transpired; he guessed that the guy was going to go with him. “Yeah, that sounds great. Thanks, I’ll see you later then.” He hung up his phone and looked at the knowing boy.

“Alright, fine, stranger, lead the way.”

He started to walk away but the other stopped him, “First things first, if we are going to be hanging out together, we can’t be strangers! Duh, common sense! The names Lance, home-biscuit.”

He stuck out his hand and Keith took it hesitantly, “Keith, and I’m not…whatever you just said.”

“Gross, your name is Keith? Your parents must’ve hated you, nobody subjects their child to that!”

He knew he was joking, but it struck to close to home, but he was already committed to eating with this guy, so he settled for a very mild, lowkey, retort. “Fuck you, Lance.”

“You see that? We are already acquainted! Now, let’s go find some pussy to snack on!”

His nose scrunched, “What the hell?”

“Food, I definitely meant food; stupid autocorrect!”

He was dumbfounded, “This is a public conversation!”

“Whatever, man, I was just pulling your string! You are so easy to tease!”

“Leg.”

“What was that?”

“The phrase is “pulling your leg” not string.”

“Well, that doesn’t make any sense. Why would you ever pull on a leg, that’s stupid.”

He facepalmed; this was going to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Now the fun begins! I hope you enjoyed and continue to read the story to see where it goes! Thanks for reading!


	3. The More the "Cherrier"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who Keith meets this chapter? I guess we will see...
> 
> Also I changed the chapter name because I thought this one was witty!

Keith hated this. He should’ve gone against his good nature and lived up to his asshole persona because he was even more unnerved meandering around with a flamboyant stranger than he had been by himself. Either this guy, Lance, had no idea where he was going, or he was leading Keith through the gaudy parade on purpose.

“Man, I can’t wait for you to meet my friends! They are going to have a hoot over you!”

“Wait, I thought we were getting something to eat?”

He paused, “Well, you see, my friend is really big on cooking and making wholesome foods, so, we’re going to find him, introduce you, and then you can eat!”

“Wholesome.” Keith remarked sarcastically.

After about an hour of wandering, and the occasional half-assed conversation that Keith did not participate too well in, Lance began to wave frantically at a large group of people sitting in the grass enjoying each other’s company.

“Hey, guys! I found a loner on my way back from getting a corndog!” The group of people, not as decorated as Lance in their respective colors, stared for a long while, which made Keith feel unwanted.

“Hello.” He waved awkwardly as he hugged himself.

“What’s up; you said you were a loner?” The smaller of the group piped in, as they sipped their bendy-straw. “Great, we needed another personality to complete our circle.”

“You’re not in a circle?” He pointed out, confused once they started laughing.

“Pretty literal, aren’t you? I can get behind that.”

Lance exploded, “Are you kidding me? You were just getting on me about using the wrong phrase and you don’t even understand the implications of a stupid circle? I am appalled.”

The little green one shrugged, “Hey, when in Rome, do as the Romans do.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He hollered.

Keith was puzzled by the dynamic of this group and some of them haven’t even spoken. He found himself getting annoyed that he had been promised food, and now he was being effectively ignored by the one who offered.

Another woman with glasses chuckled as she noticed Keith, “Uh oh, Lance, I think your friend is getting antsy.”

Lance looked over, “Don’t worry, he’s always like that.”

“You don’t know me!” Keith retorted angrily. He was tired, he was hungry, and he really wasn’t up for this guy’s ignorant jokes.

Keith was confident that he made the rest of the group feel uncomfortable with his outburst and frowned. He hated this, “I’m just going to go.”

“Wait, Keith!” Lance ran after him and caught his shoulder, “Come on, what’s wrong with you?”

“I did not agree to join, or hang, with your little group of friends!”

“What’s wrong with meeting some people?”

He scoffed, fuming, “I am not a people person, Lance!” He put a hand to his chest referring to himself, “People don’t like me, and I can’t even hold a conversation for longer than three seconds! I’m a loner, just like you said, and I’m probably better off staying that way.”

“Hey, look, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how antisocial you were, but you don’t need to run away because of it.” He gestured to his friends, “None of us are perfect and I’m sure that if you gave them the chance they would really like you, flaws and all.”

There was a bubbly feeling in his chest, “You don’t even like me, Lance. I don’t know why you invited me.”

He shrugged, “It’s like you said, I don’t know you well enough yet,” he looked into Keith’s self-conscious eyes and couldn’t help but notice how gentle they actually were, “but I would like too.”

They stared at each other for mere minutes before Lance broke eye contact and started blabbing away into the distance, “I mean, that’s what Pride is for! Making friends like you, ha-ha!”

Keith felt something akin to emptiness when his hand left his shoulder, perhaps disappointment, but why would he feel that way?

He shrugged, “Whatever, I’m just hungry.”

Lance looked like he had just been hit with a bag of bricks, “Holy guacamole, you’re right! I forgot, man, my bad! Hey, Hunk!”

A dark boy that looked about as threatening as an oversized teddy bear, peered up from his spot on the ground next to the little green one.

“Yeah, buddy?” Apparently, a mouthful of food too.

 “Our man’s is hungry! Hook him up with some of your magic!” The one known as Hunk seemed to be excited at the notion of someone else eating his food and started rummaging through his much larger backpack.

“Alright, Keith, right? What do you fancy?”

“I haven’t introduced myself yet.”

“Oh, well, Lance is kind of loud,” Lance rubbed the back of his neck, “so, what do you like?”

Keith pondered before shrugging, “McDonalds?”

Hunk gasped, along with everyone else in the proximity, “My friend,” Hunk put his hands on his shoulders and cried, “I will break you of this curse and bless you with real meals!”

Keith felt like he was going to explode with closeted panic, “Oh, ok, what do you recommend?”

He beamed; he was an, oddly, adorable fella, Keith had concluded, “I’m glad you asked, Keith! I’ve got some calzones, Pidge really likes those.” At the mention of their name the little green one pronounced a lazy “present” before going back to sipping their drink and scrolling through their phone.

“What’s in a calzone?”

“Oh, you know, it’s like a mini pizza; there’s some meat and cheese, and stuff.”

“Alright, definitely not; what else do you got?”

“I have some pepperoni rolls.”

“With cheese?”

“Yep!”

“Sorry, I’ll pass.”

Lance decided to be little bitch and insert himself into the conversation, “Alright, weirdo, do you have a thing against cheese or something?” He emphasized his irrelevant point dramatically by taking a calzone and biting off the end as if he would somebody’s head.

Patience yields focus, he reminded himself and took a deep breath, “I’m lactose intolerant you, ignorant ass.” That came off more aggressive than he had initially anticipated.

The one known as Pidge erupted in hollering laughter as Lance cowered from his insult and Hunk gasped in realization.

“I am so sorry about your disease, to not have dairy sounds,” he shivered, “terrifying!”

“It’s not that bad.” He reassured.

“What about chicken nuggets? Please, tell me you like chicken nuggets.”

“Yeah, that’s fine, thank you.” As he started enjoying the food Hunk had given him, and his hunger was beginning to diminish, Lance began to officially introduce everybody.

“Ok, so, Keith,” he looked up from his spot on the ground, indulging in chicken nuggets, “This little shit is Pidge,” they produced a piece sign, “They are pretty gender neutral, so you can call them whatever you want.” He nodded, that explained all of the green and purple.

“This amazing, beautiful, kind, Samoan Pillsbury Dough Boy, is Hunk.”

They smiled so sweetly at each other that Keith could feel the cavities forming in his molars, “Aw, shucks, Lance!”

A disgusted groan could be heard in the distance from Pidge as the two continued to hug each other, “No problem, Hunk; speaking of which, he’s pans, so essentially he loves everybody.”

“That is not at all what that means.”

“But it’s true, is it not?”

He paused, “You got me there, buddy.”

“In your face!” He shouted, pointed, and assumed his previous position, “Moving on, to the worst of the bunch that I have been dreading to introduce you to, is my sister, Veronica.” He concluded with a disgusted face, “You don’t really have a reason to talk to her, she’s a lesbian.”

“So are you.” The sister retorted; Keith sniggered at Lance’s puzzled face.

“That doesn’t even make any sense!”

“You don’t make any sense.”

“We are not playing this game!”

He moved on to introduce his brother Luis and his boyfriend, and his sister Rachel with hers.

“And then that’s Matt, he’s Pidge’s brother.”

When he got no further explanation on the man he questioned what was only natural, “So what’s he?”

“Oh, he’s as straight as a ruler, but I needed a ride, so he tags along.” Pidge explained, and Keith just nodded.

“So, what about you?” Keith turned to Lance.

“What about me?” He questioned puzzled.

He laughed, “You know, Pidge is gender neutral I’m bi; what about you?”

Keith paled and felt his hands go clammy. His chest was constricting, and he felt he couldn’t breath right, “Oh, I just came with a friend, that’s all.” He threw out because, technically, it wasn’t a lie, but it still felt wrong to say.

“Looks like we got a closet queer!” Lance hollered to the heavens startling Keith, who felt the need to defend himself.

“What? No! I’m just tagging along!”

“So, you’re like Matt?” Pidge questioned, sipping her drink. He was beginning to think it was tea at this point.

“Well, no, I wouldn’t say that…”

“Closet queer!” Lance yelled and pointed. Keith’s face lit up with red humiliation. Hunk seemed to notice and averted everyone’s attention to him as opposed to the confused teen. What a blessing this man is.

“You said you tagged along with friends, right, Keith? Do you usually go with them?” The gentle giant in pink and yellow questioned.

“I’ve actually never been to a Pride parade before.” He admitted. The group gasped.

“We’ve got a virgin everyone!” Lance cried, “Dude, you are going to have a blast! Especially, with us by your side!”

Pidge spoke up excitedly, “Yeah, Pride is spectacular! Honestly though, you could probably do without us; we suck big ones.”

He glanced around to find everyone agreeing, with Lance protesting their credibility. He chuckled, “You all can’t be as bad as me.”

Hunk smiled, “Then you’re going to fit in just fine, buddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! The group is all together! The fun part is about to start now!


	4. Candied Cherry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try to update, maybe every other Saturday, because of school and that is my first priority. This is a rare case because I already had most of it done, so I wanted to go ahead and give it to you guys, but the next few updates won't be as frequent.

Keith hated to admit it, but he was actually enjoying himself. It was later in the afternoon, so the sun wasn’t as blaring because it was concealed by all of the towering buildings. He no longer felt lonely because this group of eccentric teenagers seemed to take him in without much hesitation; they almost made it seem like he was a missing piece to their puzzle, at least that’s how they made him feel. They had been following the mass of people in the parade for hours, and not one minute was anything less than an adventure. First, he was told he was too dark and that he needed some kind of makeover (of course, suggested by Lance). So, they each gave him a little something of theirs to, and quote, “get him more into the spirit”. Hunk gave him one of his pink headbands (he had three different bands on his head to try and get all of his colors) and he had tied it around his arm because if he did it around his head he thought he would look stupid. Pidge offered to paint something on him with the multi-color Crayola paints they had on them. He was hesitant at first but agreed to it nonetheless. He was caught off guard when they covered their hands in red and green and placed them directly on his pecks. They said that it was a pride staple to have your breasts painted and then continued to reassure that it would wash out. Lastly, Lance gathered a few hundred of the cheap beads dangling around his neck and put them around his. It was gentle and sweet, and when he looked at Lance for his approval there was a light tint of pink to his cheeks before he shook his head and said that something was missing. His sister, Veronica, then perked up and took off the flower crown atop her head, weaved with intricate vines, branches, and a multitude of unique flowers and petals (probably fake though), and said the he would look much cuter in it than she did. He wasn’t necessarily down for fake flowers on his oily head, but Lance snatched it regardless and placed it, like a crown, on his head. Once he thought it was over, the enthusiastic boy seized a handful of cosmetic glitter from his little pack and eagerly gave him unicorn tears.

Keith, personally, felt ludicrous, but everyone insisted that he fit in much better, and Lance seemed to like it, so he left it alone for the time being.

He had also learned more about the group the longer he hung around them. He discovered almost everyone in Lance’s family was LGBTQ in some light, which was extremely interesting to him. Two of his siblings were bi, his sister was gay, so was his uncle, and then he mentioned that even his grandmother had dabbled. Go grandma. Apparently, it was only a matter of time before he came out to them.

Pidge was the smartest out of the entire squad. Although, Hunk and Matt definitely gave them a run for their money, they were no comparison. They weren’t just book smart, they were woke. They had the tendency to spout seemingly nonsensical gibberish about science and certain political matters that blew Keith out of the water. They also had a sarcastic sense of humor, which he could get behind. He noted that if they were to ever meet Shiro, he would be obsessed. He always had a soft spot for the nerdy ones.

Keith found that Hunk was the easiest person to talk to out of the bunch. He gave off a comforting aura that made him feel trustworthy. If he asked him to jump off of a cliff he probably would. What he found out though is that that trusting nature is exactly what could get the wrong person in trouble. He was like Regina George, he knew everything about everybody because people trusted him with their secrets. So, not only could he hold his own in a battle of brawn, but if you crossed him and his friends the wrong way, he would not hesitate to sell you out. Well, he would hesitate, but he has the ability to ruin lives. He made a mental note to never get on his bad side.

Keith didn’t get to talk to the rest of them that much, but he didn’t mind because they were much older than he was anyway, and they probably wanted to spend time with their significant others. He suspected that they were mostly here to make sure the teenagers didn’t get too crazy.

It was about three in the afternoon and the four had experienced the multitude of condoms being handed out (Lance would personally request a magnum), they had made use of the food booths selling different treats like cotton candy, popcorn, and there was an occasional snow cone stand. As far as savory delights go, there were corndogs, hotdogs, and other things that they took advantage of, much to Hunk’s dismay.

Pidge, though equipped with powerful, dirty quips at their disposal, was fidgeting with their phone to get the Bluetooth speaker to function adequately. They were completely immersed in finding a way to blast their music to the heavens.

After the group had gotten a round of slushies from a convenience store that was on the way through the parade, Lance pulled out a small water bottle from his bag and swished it around tantalizingly.

“What’s that?” He had asked obliviously, Lance smirked.

“It’s my secret weapon! Tequila!” He hollered and continued to make a series of screeching tongue rolls.

He was stunned, “You brought tequila?”

“How’d you manage to do that, Tailor?” Pidge had snorted, and he joined. The nickname, Tailor, had come from a story about how Lance almost lost his virginity, but the chickadee had baled when he self-labeled himself, “The Tailor”, because of how he, “thread the needle”. He had wanted to feel bad but couldn’t because it was just too funny. It was just an awful pickup line.

“Doesn’t matter.” He pointed, “I have it, so now I’m going to make, wait for it, LGBT-juice!” The three stared incredulously.

“Lance, what the hell is that?” He had questioned.

“Come on, it’s crafty! Don’t you get it? Juice sounds like Q, so it takes the place of the Q in LGBTQ! LGBT-juice!”

That was the dumbest thing he had ever heard in his entire life. It wasn’t even clever.

“So, how exactly do you make this LGBT-juice?” Hunk cautioned, putting air quotations around the drink in question.

He laughed haughtily, “Easy, you take a Slurpee, and mix in the tequila. Boom! Alcoholic slushy!”

“You haven’t tried this at all.” Pidge chimed knowingly.

Keith snorted, and Lance looked from him to Pidge and flushed.

“No! I’ve made this hundreds of times before and it’s delicious!” He then popped off the lid to his slushy, and the bottle, and poured a hefty amount of alcohol into his drink. After doing so, he shook it around, the best he could, and took a large, defiant slurp from his concoction.

Not even seconds after it had entered his mouth, Lance’s face contorted bitterly, and all of the tainted, icy treat was sprayed on the ground as he spit out everything that touched his tongue. Keith, uncharacteristically, burst into a fit of obnoxious laughter at the sight of Lance’s spit-take. The other two broke soon after his outburst, and they had a pleasant little joy-fest as Lance erupted into a billion shades of maroon.

“Give me that,” Keith chuckled, snatching the red drink from the mortified boy, “let me show you how it’s done.” He sneered as he threw away the straw and popped off the plastic lid to Lance’s questionable brew. Keith took a moment to observe their dubious glances before he suddenly began to confidently chug the ice-cold dessert.

The trio marveled in disbelief as the new addition to their group pulled the cup away and gasping for breath, crushed the large, empty cup in his hand. They stared in awe, Lance especially so, because it’s hard enough to imagine that somebody would be capable of downing an entire cherry slushie without getting brain freeze, but the fact that Keith just chugged the alcoholic drink baffled him in a weird, tingly way that he couldn’t explain.

“Holy shit, Keith, that was amazing!” Pidge beamed, a little overexcited. “How’d you do that so effortlessly?”

Hunk appeared both impressed and disturbed, while Lance’s mouth hung open for the flies.

Keith smirked, “I’ve had some practice.” He turned to Lance who froze under his gaze, “A little advice, if I may,” he tossed him the crumpled cup, which Lance caught after fumbling with it, “next time, choose a poison you can keep up with.” He then continued to hand his own root beer slushie to him, as he had just taken his own, and proceeded to continue walking forward.

“God, he’s such a jerk…” Pidge commented as they all stared at the back of Keith’s head, “I like him!”

“He’s a pretty interesting guy,” Hunk chimed, “right, Lance?”

Lance didn’t say a word as he watched the raven leave. He looked to the drink in his hand, to Keith, then back to Hunk.

“Did he drink out of this?” Hunk blinked in confusion at the out of place question.

“Yeah, he took a few sips.” At that, Lance nodded slowly and raised the straw to his lips and casually took a drink while stealing a glance at the boy.

Hunk chuckled as he connected the dots, “So, that’s why you asked him to join us.”

Lance looked over raising a carefully sculpted brow, “What are you talking about?” He questioned genuinely as he stole another sip.

The latter rolled his eyes, “That one percent you are always talking about? Ninety-nine percent into girls and so on?”

Lance choked for the second time that day, “Are you kidding? I could never be into a stuck up, unenthusiastic, pale looking stick like him! He’s disgusting with that horrid mullet of his!” He made a gagging sound and Hunk raised a knowing brow.

“Then why did you invite him?”

He hesitated, “To be fair, I thought he was dying sitting over by his lonesome.”

“So, you felt bad for him.”

“Well, he was all by himself, and…” he was remembering how he felt in that moment, when he first laid eyes on that stupid mullet, “he just looked sad, you know?”

“If that’s all true, I think you’re doing a good job at making him feel accepted.” Lance followed where Hunk was pointing to see the very boy they were discussing. Pidge was continuously punching the other’s arm, screaming about something in a confusing way only Pidge knew how, but Keith, throughout the odd ordeal, was smiling at the teen, and Lance could feel the heat rising to his face.

From the short time that they have known each other, he very rarely smiled, or even remotely appeared that he was enjoying himself. Right now, he looked genuinely happy. The way his eyes crinkled in the corners, how his grin leaned more to the right when it was too wide, was something to marvel on its own, but, when he laughed, Lance felt his world stop.

It was unexpectedly soft and fluid, yet jagged, like a river running over stones. The foreign sound came out in spurts, never all at once, and when he laughed too hard he would take a deep inhale and snort. He would always cover up his face when he did so, but Lance secretly wished he wouldn’t, although, he found the subconscious action endearing. It was a good look on him.

While he was lost in his wondering thoughts, the dark-haired boy adjusted to face his direction, and his heart stopped.

The two made eye contact, and an unknown, palpable emotion was caught in their gaze. Soft hazel met vibrant indigo and the boy occupying his thoughts sent him the gentlest smile he had ever seen grace his lips, and a careful wave to go with it.

 At that moment, all of the words Lance had previously used to describe Keith went out the window. The only word he could think of made him nervous, mostly because he had just met the guy, but even if he prided himself on being Bi, he considered him to be mostly into the opposite gender.

When beautiful was the only word popping into his head when he looked at him, it felt mildly discomforting, yet no other word seemed to describe the boy so, incredibly perfectly.


	5. Rotten Cherry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that this took so long! I am doing the best I can to whip these out, but I am so busy with school work that I literally have no time! I appreciate you all for waiting though. This one is shorter than the others, but it's better than nothing! Enjoy!

Lance was confuddled. He couldn’t figure out for the life of him why he suddenly found everything about Keith so unbelievably tantalizing. His hair wasn’t oily and matted, no, it was slick and sexily shaggy. His eyes weren’t just blue, they were a nebula in the depths of space; a deep, mysterious void of violet and royal stars. He adored his eyes because no matter what he said outwardly, those two, beautiful orbs said so much more than what he led on. He did not find the boy’s naivety annoying, instead it was exceptionally cute in the most frustrating way one could picture. After what felt like hours of intense glaring and internal counseling, he decided, what the hell? He was a lady killer, he could sway this dark and brooding mass to the bright side.

Then why was he so horrible at this?

He had wanted to start off strong. Show the guy how confident he was with his, previously, struggling, new found attraction toward him. That was an awful idea, on his part.

They had been planted on the sidewalk, admiring the dramatic floats that went by, when he decided to make a move. He had slid up right next to him, hip to hip, and draped an arm around the boy, who tensed shyly (adorable!) at the touch and put on his best bedroom eyes.

“Hey, man, do you have an inhaler?” He looked confused, “because you’ve got ass ma.”

The raven boy turned to the side dumbly, “Uh, yeah.”

His face fell, “What?”

Then, go figure, Keith reaches into that ugly fanny pack of his and pulls out an inhaler. Unbelievable; but he refused to give up! It was time for Plan Two!

“You are so selfish! You are going to have that body your entire life and I just want it for one night!” Lance saw something break in his eyes as he flinched back.

“It’s not my fault I have fucked up lungs.” Lance cowered at the pure bitterness and self-consciousness in his words. The boy stormed away as Hunk and Pidge failed to stifle their giggles in the background.

Lance was devastated. If you listened closely, you could here his confidence shatter into a billion hopeless pieces.

The second time was when they had stopped to grab some more to drink (alcohol of course because Keith was an adult and convinced the man that they were twenty-one), and Keith was complaining about it being too hot and sticky. Lance saw this as an ideal opportunity to woo the boy.

“You can take your clothes off, if you want.” The group stared baffled at his boldness, but it was necessary.

“Um, I’m alright.” He answered uncomfortably. Maybe he thought he only meant his sweatshirt. He pushed further with his pursuit.

“I heard that birthday suits are all the rage,” he wiggled his brows, “and it’s free!” He winked. Keith flushed only slightly but hunched over closer to his beer.

“Yeah, I’m not like that.” He looked anxious. Lance panicked and tried to fall back.

“Come on, I bet you’d look great with no pants!” His eyes widened, “I mean, you’re already wearing leggings. Those things are like a second skin, they show everything!”

Keith glanced down at himself and crossed his legs over the other, slowly tugging his jacket over his body. He looked at Pidge who deliberately shook their head; damn, he screwed up again.

Why Keith couldn’t figure out that he was trying to flirt with him was a complete mystery, but now it seemed like the boy was avoiding him. He had decided that his usually killer pick up lines weren’t working, so he went for a more casual approach, something to grab his interest. No matter what he did though, he was given the cold shoulder. When he offered him a sip of his water, he walked away, and when he tried to strike a conversation about how great the floats were this year, he was utterly ignored.

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong!” He had complained to his sister, Veronica, when he had given up on pleasing the guy. “I mean, what’s his problem anyway? You’d think he’d never been hit on before!” At this point, Lance had distanced himself from the crew who were chilling with a few sodas in the horizon, while he had drifted back with his family.

“Aw, is the baby having trouble with his first love?”

He rolled his eyes, “Please, he is certainly not my first love. There were plenty of suitors before he came around.”

Veronica sassily sipped her drink as they walked side by side, “He’s not a woman though.”

That was true. Keith is the first boy he’s ever gotten butterflies over. He’s been attracted to some, sure, that’s how he found out he was bi, but he’s never wanted to do things with them before, like hold hands or go on movie dates. He was embarrassed by his own thoughts; he’s known the guy for a day and he was acting like his rejection was the end of the world.

Veronica noticed the change in her brother and set her jokes aside, “Look, Lance, maybe he hasn’t before.”

He looked up from where he was rubbing at his eyes, frustrated, “What are you going on about now?”

“I think you were joking, but maybe he isn’t used to this kind of thing.”

He hadn’t thought of that; it could be he was going about this the wrong way.

“But I tried just talking to him, being nice, and now he’s acting like I don’t exist!”

Veronica pinched her chin in thought, “He could just not be interested.”

“No, that’s impossible; there isn’t a soul out there, no matter how closeted they are, that can resist Lancey-Lance!”

She paused judgmentally, “Lancey-Lance.”

“Ok, listen—”

“Look, you’re going about this too quickly. You’ve seen Frozen, haven’t you? The two of you just met! Although your confidence is admirable, do yourself, and him, a favor and take it slow. Don’t rush things.” She put a comforting hand on his shoulder, “try being his friend first.”

Lance smiled softly at his sister; she was right. He was quick to act on his emotion, all the time actually, and this was no exception to his usual impulses. He supposed he was just anxious and despite what his sister said about confidence, he didn’t have a lot of it. He mostly put it on for show, but stuff like this made him nervous. What if he doesn’t feel an attraction? What if he doesn’t find him attractive at all? Those questions circled around his head continuously for decades, but he didn’t have to worry about that right now. He was going to take Veronica’s advice to heart; he was going to do this right even if Keith was an asshole the entire time.

              “I don’t get his problem!” Keith complained to Hunk, Pidge was there too, but they were pretty uninterested in his issues. “I mean, did I rub him the wrong way?”

Pidge scoffed, “Yeah, you did.”

He glared at them out of the corner of his eye, “You’re not supposed to be listening!”

“What the hell else am I supposed to do? This is like a real-life soap opera playing before my very eyes! I cannot believe I am alive to experience this moment!”

“You know what, I’m going to ignore you right now.” He turned back to Hunk, who actually appeared concerned for him. “Tell me, honestly, was I a jerk in any way, shape, or form? Please, tell me!”

Hunk cocked a brow, “No, not that I know of, but what does that have to do with you and Lance?”

Lance hated his guts, he was sure of it, and it must’ve been something he did because the Cuban boy was an over grown ball of sunshine before recently. Now, he was just being cruel, but he didn’t know why he would say any of those things to him.

It didn’t make sense, Keith thought angrily. He remembered when the two of them first met, it was a rocky first encounter, but Keith was secretly grateful for him in that moment. He was vibrant, sure, but he was sweet, and kind and he could have walked right past him, but he didn’t. He was stupid and ignorant, but Keith couldn’t seem to hate him, no matter how hard he tried, so now that he is upset with him hurts.

Keith hated the fact that he was feeling this way toward a man and this drama with Lance was like adding oil to his distressed fire.

Now that he thought about it, he always had little quips about and toward him, but he assumed it was just teasing. Maybe he got the wrong idea. He continuously found the time to mention his closeted personality even when he was sure it was obvious he didn’t want to talk about it. Now, he was making fun of the way he dressed, certain ailments he had, and it just wasn’t make him feel great about himself. Despite what the others may think, he wasn’t confident in himself or who he was at all. Everything that came off as rude, or arrogant, was just for show. Lance’s comments were starting to make him think that he just wanted him here to make fun of him.

“I don’t know, Hunk.” He finally responded, brushing his hand through his hair. He heard a small clank behind him and forgot that he had been wearing that stupid flower crown. “Shit.” He whispered mostly to himself as he bent down to retrieve it.

“Here, I got it!” He heard an irritating voice resound amongst the crowd. As soon as he went to grab the band, a different hand snatched it away from the ground. Keith peered up at the opposing stranger through distracted eyes as his hand was left outstretched and abandoned. The boy in question smiled sickly, sweetly at Keith and offered him the crown he had just dropped.

Keith was infuriated. That ignorant smirk was mocking him, his eyes held copious amounts of bitter judgement and ridicule; he wanted to punch his stupid, perfect, heart-shaped face in.

If looks could kill, Lance would not be recognizable. He imagined cold daggers puncturing through his tiny, toned body as they stared at each other, tensely, kneeled on the ground. Despite his ruthless glare, Lance’s sick, bright smile continued to shine, sardonically.

Keith snapped.

He aggressively stole the crown back from the others hand, much to his surprise. Lance sat like a toddler who just accidently popped is own fucking balloon, shocked. Keith didn’t care; he arose promptly, grabbed the intricately weaved flower crown, that probably took hours, maybe days to make, on both sides and shattered the beautiful head piece, against his knee, brazenly. There was a distinct, disgusting crack, like snapping a vegetable, as the crown was left in to two jagged, broken sticks.

The group ogled in shocked silence, but Lance stood up immediately.

“What the hell, you bitch! That wasn’t even yours!” He scolded sourly at the regrettable action that had already been done. Keith had forgotten that it was not Lance’s to begin with, but he really could find an ounce of remorse in his angry body.

“Whatever. It’s just a stupid flower crown; they can make another one.”

Lance blew up, “There you go again! Acting like an ass in front of everybody, to everybody, and for what? Just because you feel like it? Veronica worked hard on that, and you just crushed it like that meant nothing!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t piss me off, then we wouldn’t have a problem!”

He laughed, “Piss you off? I have been nothing but nice to your depressed, goddamn lonely ass since I invited you to join us, but, you know what? I’m beginning to think that was my biggest mistake.”

Keith continued to glare, like the longer they glared at each other the sooner one will lose, but Hunk piped up, the saint as always.

“Come one, guys, don’t do this.” He tried to reason, but they kept pushing their limits.

“What was, Lance? Go ahead, I can take the honesty!”

He rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Honesty? Who are you to preach about honesty when you aren’t even honest with yourself?”

Keith flinched, but held strong, “You’re always going on about fucking nonsense; what the hell are you blabbering about now?”

“Lance, don’t—” Pidge tried to intervene, but to no avail.

“Oh, ‘I’m Keith, and want to fuck dudes, but I don't want to admit it', or, ‘Woe is me, I can’t accept that I’m a fucking queer,’” Lance stomped closer, Keith took an instinctive step backward, “Well, tough shit, mullet,” he spat, “you like guys, big whoop-de-doo! You’re such a tight ass, you need to find a guy to loosen you up!” He prodded an accusing finger in to Keith’s chest as he took another step back, “Get that “friend” of yours, because god knows that he’s the only guy that could ever, ever, have any kind of affection toward, an arrogant, unaware, disgusting, closeted, goddamn faggot like you!”

They were startled, Lance was shocked with himself, was proud too, until he saw the look on Keith’s face.

He had said that his eyes said everything, this was no exception.

He was standing as motionless as a statue, face completely flushed of any color, eyes as wide as saucers. He just watched as his shoulders began to shake and his bottom lip started to quiver. The two pieces to the crown dropped to the ground as Lance felt a sloppy impact to his left cheek. He stumbled back, holding on to the bruised, tender flesh in his hand. When he turned back to the perpetrator his heart broke to see Keith, a boy of little emotion, with tears threatening to spill from his eyes, holding his used fist.

His breathing was labored and hesitant as he spoke, “I thought you were different! I actually believed that you cared, like a fucking idiot! Of course, I was wrong; I’m always fucking wrong. Fuck you, Lance! Fuck all of you!”

Keith turned around and bolted anywhere he could away from people, away from everything.

The group was left shocked and Lance witnessed all of them turn their heads simultaneously toward him, crossly.

“That was really fucking low, man.” Pidge had informed him abusively.

"I told you to be friends with him, not a bully." His sister chimed in. Despite how much it hurt, he knew they were right.

He really fucked up.

 

 


	6. Maraschino

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter has very offensive language toward the LGBTQ in it, but it is solely for the purpose of the story and drama. If that kind of stuff bothers you, feel free to skip to the bottom of the page, or leave if you want.

              Keith did not know where he was going, and he honestly couldn’t care. All he knew was that he wanted to be away from this stupid parade. As he ran from his problems, he rudely pushed innocent bystanders out of his way. He felt their eyes burning through him, judgmentally; he winced and continued to run faster. The quicker he ran, the more he felt like an anomaly.

              “Keith! Keith, where’d you go, buddy?” Hunk called over the excitement of the colorful crowd. The group had separated to try and find their friend, or who they hope still was after that dramatic outbreak. The three had gone in his general direction, but they could only go so far because, eventually, they lost sight of the raven.

Lance felt horrible; his stomach was in knots and a terrible acid reflux was present in the back of his throat. He knew what he said to him was wrong, despite the fact that it felt so right in the moment. Even now, he hated how the regret was weighted on his shoulders. His friends and family would give him a look of derision every time they glanced his way; he hated it all.

“We’re not having any luck here.” Pidge’s concerned voice broke Lance out of his self-deprecating train of thought. He turned to face the others as they tried to figure out a new approach.

They began to list a multitude of things that they could do; Lance stepped forward, interrupting the two.

“We should split up and meet back here in, say, an hour. Maybe we would have better luck then.”

They both appeared weary of the idea. Hunk frowned at Lance disappointedly, “No offense, but that might not be the best idea in case you happen to run in to him,” Lance tried to swallow the knot in his throat, “after what you did, I wouldn’t be too happy to see you.”

“Look, I know, but what else should we do? Wait to see if he comes back? That’s less likely than one of us finding him if we go individually.” He shamefully looked to the ground, “Plus, if I do happen to find him, and not you guys, maybe I can make it up to him somehow.”

“You really think you can?” Pidge commented doubtfully.

“Probably not, but it’s the only thing I can think of.”

The two spared a glance at each other before Pidge broke the silence, “Alright, it’s worth a shot, I suppose. Hunk and I will go this way; you’ve got one hour, dickhead.”

Lance nodded and bolted in a random direction. If he couldn’t find him, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to live it down.

              Keith ended up in some quaint café a few blocks down from the parade. He walked in, hearing the bell ring overhead, and continued to make his way to the very back corner of the room. It was shaded and secluded, which is what he wanted in order to properly hide himself from the rest of the world. Keith slid down in to the poorly clad, blue, faux-leather booth and lay his head in his arms on the table in front of him. He just wanted to disappear.

The café was lit with a soft violet hue that would be comforting in usual circumstances. He peered around to find that it was relatively empty, except for two men chatting away in the opposing corner. They turned to look at him questionably and Keith cowardly put his head back down.

After a few minutes, Keith had decided that he wanted a drink, thinking that perhaps that would make him feel better. He solemnly slinks toward the bar and politely requests a coffee from the barista working there. As they began to prepare his drink, Keith began to feel uneasy. He peeked to the left in his peripheral and noticed that the two men from before were staring at him. He shook his head; it must be his imagination. A simple, cruel illusion casted by his misery and self-loathing.

The barista offered him the coffee, and he took it with thanks. He reached in to his pack and pulled out a couple dollars to hand the worker. After paying for his drink, he leisurely goes back to his seat in the corner.

Keith takes a small sip of the coffee and winces; it was scolding against his tongue. He began to blow gently against the drink in hopes to cool it down. As he did this, he saw the men in his peripheral point in his general direction.

Feeling a small pit in his stomach, but also mild annoyance, Keith pretended to be unnecessarily immersed in his coffee. He swirled the liquid around aimlessly, hoping the men would stop looking at him because he was not in the mood for it. It was probably just his imagination, but he never liked being stared at. It meant that he was attracting some kind of attention, and he loathed that. Now that he thought about it, he was wearing an absurd amount of makeup and paint, courtesy of yours truly, so he probably stood out like a sore thumb.

Due to this new realization, Keith attempted to inconspicuously pick at the glitter underneath his eyes so that he would not be so obtrusive.

As Keith scrubbed at his face, he vaguely noticed the two men rise from their seats and make their way toward his direction. He had thought, perhaps, they were headed toward the bathroom, but threw that thought away when the two stopped at his table.

They were much bigger than Keith was, and burly too, and they were dressed in work clothes; completely normal looking guys.

There was one with a beard who spoke up, voice deep and clear as he addressed Keith, “What’s with that makeup on your face?”

It seemed like a harmless question, but Keith still froze uncomfortably toward the strangers, “It’s not really makeup; I think it’s just glitter, but I wore it to a party.” He responded vaguely, because he did not want to be rude, but he also did not want to have a conversation with them.

“A party? What kind of party?”

This was getting weird, “A big one. There was food, and balloons; you know, the usual party stuff.” He mistakenly added his last excuse, “It was kind of like a giant costume party, I guess.”

The two looked to each other and back to him with new found malice in their eyes; Keith scooted back further in his seat, hitting the wall behind him.

The clean-faced one chimed in to the conversation that Keith did not want to be having, “I knew it; you’re one of those fags, aren’t you?”

Keith flinched at the derogatory term that was just thrown at him, “Excuse me?”

The larger man that had spoken before grabbed Keith by the wrist and yanked him to the edge of the seat, as opposed to the safety of the back corner. The table shook, spilling the coffee he bought, as his legs banged in to the table while he was being dragged.

“Hey, what the hell--!”

“You think that you and your destructive colleagues are better than us? That you and your special privileges make you important?”

The man threw Keith in to one of the standing tables, meant for two; Keith fell to the ground with the chairs collapsing beside him.

The smaller of the two sent a solid kick to his liver; he winced, “What are you, huh?” He kicked him again and repeated with every sentence.

The brawn piped in, “ _It_ looks like one of those sick trannies.” He firmly pressed his foot in to Keith’s crotch; he froze fearfully. “Is that what you’re in to? Little girls and their parts? That is vile; perverts, like you, are going straight to hell!”

Keith attempted to sit up, but it was hard with the man’s foot against him; he really did not want to start a fight, “Look, guys, chill out—”

The latter took hold of his sweatshirt and forcefully stood him up on his feet, “For someone, like you, to request civility, when you force your warped ideals on the rest of us, is laughable, at best.” 

Keith held on to the part of his sweatshirt that had just been grabbed. He glared at the two men; were these kinds of people always hanging around Pride?

Whatever, it didn’t matter to him. He was just annoyed that he was getting harassed and nobody here was doing anything about it; perhaps that also came with the package.

He couldn’t lie to himself though, this freaked him out a little. He had never gotten in to a confrontation with someone because of his potential sexual orientation. Hell, he only ever had those words running through his own head, but no one ever addressed him as such.

His nervousness wasn’t going to stop him from fighting back, however; after all, fear was just an accessory to the cause.

Keith put his fists up, completely prepared to retaliate, but the burly man, again, grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward him. Keith was about to kick him, because, honestly, a simple wrist grab was not something he couldn’t handle, but he was unexpectedly interrupted.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” A voice rang through the otherwise, unusually quiet restaurant. He didn’t expect anyone to intervene; the people working here hadn’t done anything. When the three of them turned to face the intruding voice, Keith’s anxiety rose. Of course, it was Lance, of _course_ it was!

It took Lance a total of four seconds to process what these guys were doing to Keith, and he was fuming, “Let him go, you creeps!”

“What? Is this little twink your boytoy?” He asked Keith referring to Lance. Suddenly, the man holding Keith released his grip. Keith rubbed the feeling of tension out of his wrist as the man turned to Lance with an angry grimace. Lance had just kicked him in the shin.

“Why, you little--!” He went to grab Lance, but he took a quick step back and shot his foot up his crotch instead. Keith winced at the sight of the man caving over in agony. The other man came in and captured Lance from behind, leaving Lance thrashing in his grip; Lance was a very thin man.

The damaged man (who probably can no longer have kids) popped up like a jack-in-the-box and swiftly backhanded Lance across the face. Keith called out to him as the other shoved him to ground; that was the final straw.

Keith’s patience was consistently walking a fraying tightrope and these guys just managed to make it snap.

The clean faced man turned curiously at the gentle tap on his shoulder. There the raven stood with a daunting sneer as his right fist promptly collided with the man’s nose, a sickening crack resounding from the impact. He stumbled backwards, moaning and groaning over the blood spilling from his, guaranteed, broken nose. Keith whipped his head toward the other and didn’t give him anytime to react at all. He grabbed his head and forced his torso down, ramming his knee repeatedly in to his side, ensuring that it will bruise. He let go, and when he brought his head back up to grip his injured stomach, Keith punched him in the jaw, sending him scrambling to his broken buddy. The two looked to Keith who hovered over top of them. His face was shadowed as he slowly popped his knuckles. Terrified, the two men rushed out the nearest exist.

Satisfied with his natural intimidation factor, Keith turned and ran to where Lance was still on the ground.

“Lance, are you ok?” He bent down and offered his hand; Lance took it.

“I think I’m alright.” He attempted to reassure as he stumbled over his own feet. Keith noticed that his nose and lip were busted; he frowned.

He grabbed his hand and started leading him to the back of the café, “Hey, where are we going?”

“Just shut up and follow, for once.”

Lance shut his trap and trailed behind Keith until they were in the men’s bathroom. Confused, Lance stood in the middle of the room as Keith went back to lock the door, leaving the two of them alone.

“Hey, Keith?”

The raven turned back toward Lance and pointed to the stalls, “Sit down.”

He turned to the stalls and blushed, “What?”

“Sit down.” He commanded more aggressively this time; nervous, Lance sat down on one of the toilets, promptly weirded out.

He heard the facet turn on and the water running. After it had been shut off, Keith came in to the stall he was occupying with a wet towel and crouched in front of him. Flustered, Lance pushed the man away.

When he was met with a look of confusion he tried to elaborate, “Look, Keith, I get you’re confused, but you don’t have to force yourself to do this!”

Keith cocked a brow, “…do what?”

Lance’s face blew up in to a million shades of red; he had forgotten Keith doesn’t think the way he does.

He laughed awkwardly and avoided eye contact, “Nothing! I thought you were going to do something else!”

A light wash of pink dusted Keith’s cheeks as he glared at Lance annoyed, “I’m not going to give you a BJ, moron.”

Lance fumbled over his words; his face could not be any redder, “W-what? You’re not s-supposed to know what t- _that_ is!” He accused and pointed. Keith rolled his eyes and changed his position so that he was sitting on the balls of his heels.

“My brother is polysexual, believe me, I _know_ about blowjobs.” He brought his hand up and gently pressed a wet paper towel to his right eye.

Lance still felt heat in his face as the coolness of the paper towel dragged across his bruised skin.

“Who’s your brother again?” He tried to keep conversation so that he didn’t get distracted be how careful Keith was being.

“Shiro. I always thought he was gay, because he’s been dating his boyfriend for forever, but he told me that he’s dated girls before, so, it’s whatever.”

The rag trailed down to Lance’s busted lip. Keith stared at the cut as he unconsciously ran his thumb over the corner of the plump lip. He retracted after instantly hearing Lance wince.

“Sorry!” He apologized going back up to pat the purple eye.

“It’s fine, man. You didn’t mean it.” Lance took a hold of Keith’s hand and brought it down from his eye, leaving Keith puzzled. “Speaking of which, I’m sorry.”

Keith shook his head, “For what? You haven’t done anything to me.”

“No, I said such awful things to you, but I didn’t mean any of it. I was just angry and frustrated, but that didn’t give me the right to hurt you.”

“It’s alright, there’s nothing you said that wasn’t true.”

“Keith, don’t say that—”

“If I hadn’t broken that crown, and ran away, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” He placed the rag back on Lance’s black eye, the one he knows he gave him and not the two men. “Everything comes full circle.”

“Well, if I had tried to get to know you, as opposed to flirting with you, then we wouldn’t be here.”

The gentle ministrations stopped, and Lance looked at Keith puzzled.

Keith, equally puzzled, flushed a deeper pink, “When were you doing that?”

Lance was dumbfounded, “Are you kidding? I was using so many pickup lines before you decided to avoid me!”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know! There was one about asthma, I think!”

He was silent.

“That was a pickup line?!”

“Yes!”

“I thought you were making fun of me!”

“I was so obviously flirting with you!”

“You were harassing me!”

“No, I wasn’t!”

The two of them stared at each other for a few seconds before bursting in to a fit of uncontrollable laughter.

“This was such a ridiculous misunderstanding!” Lance cackled, holding his stomach.

“We are such a hot mess!” Keith said in between giggles.

“Ok, wait,” Lance tried to cease his laughter for a minute, “do you really have asthma?”

Keith looked in disbelief, “Yes, of course! I mean, I haven’t had to use my inhaler since I was, like, thirteen, but Shiro wants me to keep it on me anyway.”

Lance’s face was soft, “It sounds like your brother really loves you.”

“Yeah, well,” he threw the towel away and offered a hand to Lance, “he’s the only one that ever has.”

Lance gently accepted the hand and looked Keith dead in the eyes, “I’m going to tell you right now, that isn’t true.”

There was so much sincerity in Lance’s eyes that Keith almost believed it was true. He felt his heart race as they started to lean in closer to the other, like a magnetic pull. He wasn’t sure who leaned in first, but he didn’t care, he closed his eyes anyway.

There was a loud knock at the bathroom door.

The two of them were both startled by the sudden noise, and the yelling of one of the workers.

Keith backed away, “Um, we should go. I think they’re kicking us out.”

Lance cleared his throat, “Uh, yeah. Let’s head back to the others.”

“Sure, yeah.”

Keith was horrified; what did he almost do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize it has been so long. It was midterms week for me, so I was very busy. This story is ALMOST done, believe it or not! I'm so excited to finish my first story! I hope you guys enjoy it! Also, every chapter has a meaning; do you think you can guess what they mean?

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally supposed to be a oneshot, but I just write too much. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little story, and make sure to tell me what you thought! I love input! Also, I am straight, so if there is anything I can do better as far as the LGBTQ content goes, please inform me, and I will improve upon it! Thanks for reading!


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